


Starting Over

by Ellie226



Series: Noah's New Life [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Age Play, Daddy Kink, Diapers, Dubious Consent, Infantilism, Non Consensual, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-17
Updated: 2012-10-17
Packaged: 2017-11-16 12:12:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/539278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellie226/pseuds/Ellie226
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Noah hasn't been taking very good care of him, and Dave is going to change that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starting Over

**Author's Note:**

> This story was taken from a GKM prompt, and it involves forced infantilism. Consider yourself warned.

Nobody really knew how Puck had gotten through high school, but he had. He’d even managed to start at community college. Finishing was another matter entirely, and one that was immensely complicated by his mother’s decision to remarry. Her new husband was not overly fond of Puck, and that was how he found himself without anywhere to live.

At first, he drifted between friends (both those with benefits and those without). He didn’t leave Lima, too anxious at the idea of being far from everything he knew. Until one day, he realized that he was waiting for his mother to come to her senses, and that was never going to happen. 

So, he decided to visit his friends everywhere else. After school, they’d scattered, and Puck had fun at first. He hit up New York to see Klaine, upstate New York to see Hudson, and then decided to go to Chicago to see Santana. 

He’d never expected to run into Karofsky, but he couldn’t afford to take a plane, and he’d had to settle for taking the train. He’d mentioned to Santana that he was coming, but he hadn’t offered exactly when. So, when he ran into Dave at the station, it was no big deal to agree to stay with him for a few days. 

Dave had been in New York for business, and once he convinced Noah to come and stay with him, he insisted upon paying for train tickets so Noah could come to his home in Philadelphia.

It was beautiful, and Dave was incredibly laid back. He kept Noah fed and entertained for a week, and Noah hated to leave. But Santana was waiting. It was definitely easier to leave once Dave made him promise to come back.

So Noah left for Chicago, after swearing that he’d be back in a week. While he was gone, Dave put his plan into action.

Noah looked awful. He was downright gaunt; he had dark circles under his eyes. He had a nagging, hacking cough, and he flat refused to allow Dave to call his doctor. It was exactly what Kurt had warned him of. He’d called Dave, asking for help. That was how he’d run into Noah at the station.

Now that Dave had seen it too, it was time to put the second phase of the plan into action. He had pretty much been ready before, but the week gave him time to get everything completely prepared.

Noah went to Chicago, having no idea of what was waiting for him back in Philadelphia. They hit up some clubs and spent way too much time drinking. He didn’t enjoy it as much as he’d thought he would, but he chalked that up to just being tired.

By the time he returned to Dave’s house, Noah was exhausted, and he was looking forward to spending some quiet time. Dave’s house was clean and warm, and Noah felt embarrassingly comfortable there.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Dave said when he picked Noah up from the station. “I made lasagna.”

That sounded amazing to Noah, and he smiled, “Starved.” Dave was an awesome cook; Noah had figured that out when he’d been there the week before.

When they got back to Noah’s place, Dave set the table. He steered Noah into a chair and brought out the lasagna. 

“Go ahead and eat; I’ll get drinks,” he said, smiling warmly.

Noah wanted to object to the glass of milk that was set in front of him a moment later, but his mouth was full of lasagna, and he really wanted something to drink. He’d just finish this glass, then he’d ask for a beer.

He was thirsty and starving, and they ate without conversation. By the time his glass was drained, Noah was feeling very tired.

“Let’s get you up to bed,” Dave told him, steering him up the stairs and to the guest bedroom.

Noah nodded, stumbling over his feet, “Didn’t realize I was so tired,” he mumbled, allowing Dave to tug off his shoes and jeans, then tuck him into the guest bedroom.

“Shh. Just sleep,” Dave reassured, smiling down. He hadn’t expected the medication to hit Noah that hard. He must have overestimated how much Noah weighed.

No problem though; he’d sleep it off, and when he woke up, Dave would just explain how his new life was going to go.

When Noah woke up, he felt odd. Warm, and fuzzy, and not entirely certain of what was going on. It took him a moment to realize that this wasn’t typical early morning fuzziness. Something was wrong. Moaning a bit, he raised a hand to his face.

Why was his hand covered? It had some weird mitten thing on it. As he was trying to work that out, he heard a door open, and suddenly, Dave’s face appeared over him.

“Hey sweetheart,” Dave murmured, putting a hand out to run through his hair. “Somebody had a big rest. You must have been tired.”

“What?” Noah asked, very confused. 

“Are you wet for Daddy?”

Noah just stared at Dave, thoroughly confused. He must be having the weirdest dream known to man; maybe it was the lasagna?

Dave didn’t wait for an answer, electing to reach a hand down and palm Noah’s groin. That got a response.

“What the hell?”

“Ah ah,” Dave warned, wagging a finger. “Babies don’t use that naughty language. Better watch it Noah Aaron, or you’re going to get a spanking.”

“What the fuck’s going on Karofsky?” If this was a dream, Noah wanted to wake up. 

Struggling to sit up, he realized that he was wearing some weird, one piece thing. Hummel would know what it was called. Shifting, Noah realized that both of his hands had the weird mittens on them.

Dave made an exaggerated sad face, “Baby, don’t make Daddy punish you on your first day with him.”

Noah was furiously trying to unwrap his hands, and he glared at Dave. “You’re not my fucking daddy Karofsky,” he spat, regretting it as soon as he saw Dave’s face. He involuntarily shrunk against the back of the crib-what the fuck? He was in a crib? 

Before he could apologize, or ponder how the hell he’d ended up in a crib, Dave was pulling down the side of the bed, grabbing Noah, and manhandling him over his lap. 

“I didn’t want to do this,” Dave said sorrowfully, tugging at the back of whatever Noah was wearing. He felt cool air on his legs, and he squawked in horror as he realized that he was wearing a diaper underneath! 

He shrieked louder when he realized that Dave was wrangling the diaper off of him, bucking wildly. “LEGGO! LE’ ME GO!”

“I don’t think so Noah Aaron,” Dave said severely, resting one (large, my god, it felt humongous now) hand on Noah’s bare ass. “I warned you what would happen if you kept using that language, and you didn’t listen. I didn’t want to punish you the first day, but you need to learn that when Daddy says something, he means it.”

While Noah was trying to process all of that, Dave lifted his hand, then brought it down with a sharp crack.

It took Noah a second, the pain catching him off guard, then he let out a hoarse yell. 

“I don’t like having to punish my little boy, but I will if you make me,” Dave lectured, bringing his hand down hard, again and again. “In this house, little boys listen to grown ups. They obey. And if you don’t learn to mind, you’re going to find yourself in this position again.”

Noah’s initial shock had worn off, and he began yelling back at Karofsky. “This isn’t fucking funny Dave! OUCH! Le’ me GO! You let me go! I’m going to kick your ass when I get up from here!”

His yelling was so loud he couldn’t even hear Dave’s lecture, so Dave fell silent. Instead, he focused very hard on turning every exposed inch of skin a dark, painful red. His hand hurt, but it became very obvious that Noah was in more pain.

After he realized that yelling wasn’t working, Noah began to beg. “Pleeease? Stoppppp!?! I-I- STOP! Dave! It really hurts!”

“It’s meant to,” Dave responded. “I warned you about consequences, didn’t I? I told you that you’d get your bottom smacked.”

“‘m sorry!” Noah wailed.

“I don’t know about that,” Dave mused. “I think you’re sorry that you’re over my knee being taught a lesson, but I don’t think you’re sorry about yelling at Daddy. And that language!”

If Noah hadn’t been so upset, he would have laughed at Dave. He sounded like some old lady. Instead, he cried, “I AM sorry. I AM! I swear!”

Dave nodded, continuing the harsh spanking, “Then apologize to Daddy, Noah.”

“Dave, seriously! Whatev-ah! ‘m sorry!”

“Not Dave. Apologize to Daddy.” Dave accompanied that sentence with a particularly vicious slap.

“‘m sorry!”

Dave didn’t even say anything to that, tilting Noah forward and spanking the backs of his thighs harshly.

Noah got the message. “‘m sorry Daddy! ‘m sorry.” 

He didn’t sound particularly sincere, and Dave just shook his head. Stopping the spanking for a minute, he leaned over to grab something, then gently rested it on Noah’s backside.

“You will be by the time Daddy’s done with this naughty bottom,” Dave promised, cracking down whatever he was holding.

Noah shrieked, a high pitched noise that he didn’t even realize he could make. Whatever Dave was holding hurt! A lot! And he hadn’t exactly been enjoying what had been happening before.

“‘m sorry ‘m sorry ‘m sorry! ‘m really sorry Daddy!” 

Dave kept going. Noah was going to bruise soon, but Dave wasn’t convinced that he was in entirely the right frame of mind. It didn’t take more than another half dozen strokes, all applied to the tender crease between his backside and his thighs, and Noah simply collapsed.

“‘m sorry,” he sobbed disconsolately, “Sorry Daddy! Sorry.”

Success. Dave put the brush down on the crib, making sure it was well out of Noah’s sight, before he began to soothe him.

“It’s okay baby. All done. You took that spanking so well,” he murmured, rubbing Noah’s back. “All done,” he repeated, helping Noah to stand. Pulling the boy down onto his lap, mindful of the reddened skin, Daddy hugged and stroked his hair. “My brave boy, huh?”

“Sorry,” Noah kept sobbing, trying to clutch Dave in spite of the mittens, “Sorry.”

“Okay. We’re all done with that now,” Dave reassured. He managed to get Noah calmed down enough that he was only letting out the occasional shudder, then he laid him down. 

Noah watched through tear swollen eyes as Dave got him dressed again. Apparently whatever he was in was not entirely one piece. It buttoned together or something. Noah whimpered and whined as he was redressed, squirming in discomfort at the tight fabric.

“Owwwww,” he whimpered.

Dave nodded, sparing a moment to smile at Noah. “I know baby, but naughty little boys have sore little bottoms.” Finishing what he was doing, he tapped Noah’s nose, “It’s to teach you to behave.”

“Dave-” Noah said, hoping that he would have snapped out of it.

It didn’t help. “Daddy,” Dave correctly, kindly but firmly. “I’m not going to remind you about this again. You call me Daddy, or I’m not going to know you’re talking to me.”

“Dave!”

Dave popped a pacifier in Noah’s mouth. “Sweet dreams,” he said, leaning to give Noah a kiss. “Daddy’s going to go and get some work done while you nap. You just call me for when you’re ready to get up.”

Noah stared at him, confused and upset. He was really sore, and he kind of wanted Dave to stay and tell him that everything would be okay. But Dave was acting so weird. He realized with a start that he was actually sucking on the pacifier, and he tried to push it out.

Dave didn’t like that. “No no,” he chastised. “We don’t spit things out. Daddy has a lot to do; he can’t run in here to keep putting that back in.” Popping it back in, he said sternly, “If you can’t remember to keep the binky in, I’ll have to use one that you can’t take out.” 

Terrified at the idea of that loss of autonomy, Noah began rapidly sucking on the rubber, “No!”

“No?” Dave asked, amused, “Can you try that with manners please?”

“No thank you,” Noah said around the pacifier, adding softly, “Daddy.”

“Well, that’s my good boy,” Dave told him, eyes softening. “Go on and nap now.” Gesturing to the baby monitor, he added, “I’ll keep an ear out for anything.”

With that vague threat, Dave left the room, and Noah was left alone. Staring at the side of the crib, he tried to shift a bit. It hurt to be on his back, his sore ass pressed to the mattress. He managed to get onto his side, staring at the door, waiting for Dave to return. He wasn’t going to fall asleep. He had just slept for God knows how long. Staring determinedly, he waited.

When Dave came back to check, Noah Puckerman was sound asleep, rolled onto his stomach, working furiously on the pacifier in his mouth. Dave kind of wanted to let him sleep, but that would get his schedule all out of whack.

WIth a sigh, he rubbed Noah’s back. “Come on baby boy. Time to get up,” he murmured.

It took Noah a moment to resurface fully, but as soon as he did, he spit the pacifier out. He couldn’t believe he’d been sucking on it.

“Noah!” Dave sounded upset, and Noah’s eyes widened, sore backside twinging in fear.

“Sorry! I just-you’re not busy anymore?” he offered weakly. Heart pounding in his chest, he waited to see if Dave would accept that.

Dave glared at Noah, picking up the pacifier. “What did I tell you about spitting things out?”

“Not to,” Noah said, squirming nervously and unconsciously throwing his mitten covered hands over his butt. “‘m sorry. I forgot.”

“Do you need spankings to help you remember?”

Noah gave out a little squeak of fear at that, butt clenching. “N-n-n-no sir. Daddy. No Daddy. Don’t need a spanking. I’ll remember.” He’d call Dave whatever the hell he wanted, if it meant there wouldn’t be any more spanking.

Dave smiled at him, unlatching the crib so he could take the side down. “Alright. If you promise you’ll be good.”

Noah nodded quietly, watching Dave with wide eyes. When he felt a hand pressing down on his crotch, he squeaked but held still.

“Somebody’s still dry,” Dave commented. “I think you need a bottle.”

Noah winced when Dave pulled him into a sitting position, and Dave smiled sympathetically. “It won’t hurt forever baby, and I bet you’ll remember not to use naughty language with Daddy for a while.”

Staring at Dave, Noah decided to try again. “Dave? I don’t know-”

“Maybe your bottom doesn’t hurt enough,” Dave said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Is that the problem?”

Noah shook his head eyes widening.

“What do you call me?” Dave asked. He felt badly about this; he really did. It would have been much better if Noah had just accepted how things were going to be rather than fighting it. Not that Dave could say he was surprised.

Noah looked down, “Daddy,” he mumbled. He couldn’t get spanked again. He was way too sore. Dave was really freaking strong! Noah would just have to bide his time and wait until he figured out a way out of here.

“That’s right!” Dave told him, reaching out to stroke his hair. “Now, let’s go get you something to drink. Are you thirsty?”

Noah found himself unconsciously leaning into the gentle touch. Dave did that now; he just touched. Noah Puckerman was still a sex shark, but until he’d run into Dave, he’d gone a long time without that kind of casual touching. And as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he kind of enjoyed it.

Dave made a mental note of Noah’s response. “Hmmm? Baby? Do you want something to drink?”

Noah was thirsty; he had no idea how long he’d been sleeping, but his mouth was dry. He nodded hesitantly.

“Let’s get you a bottle then,” Daddy told him, standing up and holding out his hand. Noah didn’t want to take it, but he found that he was still a bit dizzy.

As Dave led Noah out of the bedroom and down the stairs, he kept up a soothing patter about their evening. Once they arrived in the kitchen, Dave settled Noah into an oversized chair at the round table. 

“You sit here, and Daddy will get a bottle,” he said calmly, going to the cupboard and pulling down a baby bottle.

“I don’t need-” Noah started.

Dave shook his head, not even bothering to look at the boy as he responded, “Babies in this house use a bottle.”

Noah scowled at that, but he didn’t dare complain. Dave sounded so adamant, and Noah was thirsty. He didn’t want an argument about how he was going to drink something.

When the bottle was full of juice, Dave walked back over to Noah and held out his hand. “Let’s go to the living room. I think we should have a little talk while you drink this.”

That sounded vaguely ominous, but Noah figured he didn’t have any choice in the matter. Following Dave to the living room, he sat down on the opposite end of the couch, reaching for the bottle.

“You could come a little closer,” Dave said, teasing. “I don’t bite.”

Noah didn’t move, and Dave didn’t push the issue. “Alright; have it your way. Here you go baby,” he handed it over. 

It took Noah a minute to get the hang of holding the bottle and drinking out of it, especially with his hands still constricted with the mittens. Once he’d mastered it though, he let out a little sigh of relief. He was thirsty.

“Does that taste good?” Dave asked, smiling.

Noah sucked it down hurriedly. How long had he been sleeping? He couldn’t remember ever being this thirsty. Having drained it, he handed it back to Dave. 

“Good now?”

“More please,” Noah said. It seemed like please was a good idea with Dave.

That seemed to do the trick since Dave went to fetch him another bottle. Noah’s eyes darted around the room, but he couldn’t figure out an exit. Especially not with his hands in these stupid mittens.

Just as he was thinking about trying to pry them off with his teeth, Dave returned handing him the bottle. Handing it over, Dave settled back on the couch and smiled at him.

“I guess we can talk about what’s going on.” Reaching out, Dave tapped Noah’s foot affectionately, “And the rules. I’m guessing you want to know those too.”

Noah rubbed a hand against his legs. He didn’t want to have this conversation. He stuck the bottle into his mouth, happy to have something to focus on.

Dave sighed. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure that he knew what he was doing. This felt weird. Thinking of what he’d discussed with Kurt and Blaine, he started. 

“You look like crap.”

That was an odd opener, and Noah didn’t really know what to say to it. Luckily for him, Dave plowed ahead.

“I’ve been talking to people, and you’re not taking care of yourself. If you can’t be a big boy and take care of yourself, then you need someone else to do it.”

“And you somehow drew the short straw?” Noah couldn’t help himself.

Dave smiled, ignoring the sass, “I lucked out and got to be the one. Look kidlet, I talked to Klaine, and they told me that you’re a mess. You weren’t sleeping or eating when you stayed with them. You’ve had that cough for at least a month. You need some help, and I’m going to give it to you.”

“What if I don’t want your help?” Noah asked, stung by what Dave was saying. He didn’t need help. He didn’t need anybody.

“Tough.” Dave knew that if he left this up to Noah, the boy would be out of his house. He was self destructing, and Dave couldn’t let that happen. And not just because Kurt would kill him. “You clearly aren’t making good decisions, so I’m going to make them for you. And that means you’re staying here. Got it?”

Noah glared daggers at him. “You can’t do this.”

“I think you’ll find that I can,” Dave said calmly. “Just like I spanked your bottom earlier. I’m sorry baby; I wish that you saw that you needed this, but your friends aren’t going to wait around until you see that you need help.”

“I don’t need your help,” Noah spat out.

Dave shook his head, “You aren’t listening. This isn’t a choice kiddo. I want you to relax and be okay with it, but I’ll settle for taking care of you while you’re kicking and screaming. All the naughty behavior in the world is only going to mean you’ve got a sore little backside.”

“You can’t just do this!” Noah protested. He was trying very hard to not just pitch a fit in frustration. Although he couldn’t believe this was happening, he had no doubt that Dave would have no reservations about spanking him again.

“Baby, it’s done. The question is whether you’re going to behave or fight me every step of the way. That’s your choice right now.”

Noah glared at Dave, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say.

“So, I’m going to be taking care of you. And I’m sure that means you aren’t going to like me some of the time, but I also think when you feel better, you’ll be happy we did this.” Dave looked down, finished.

Noah waited for a minute before he finally said, “So I don’t have a choice in all of this?”

Dave shook his head. “If I thought you’d make a good choice, that you would take care of yourself, then yeah. But you aren’t. You’re spinning out, and I can’t watch you do that. For God’s sake Noah, you wouldn’t even let Blaine take a look at that cough.”

The men sat in silence for a while, Noah shifting a bit as he thought. Finally, he couldn’t hold out any longer.

“What are the rules?” he asked, voice low. He got what Dave was saying, he did. It didn’t mean that he wanted to be there. But since it seemed like he wasn’t leaving, he figured he should at least figure out how to avoid more punishments. Maybe if he did what he was supposed to, Dave would at least drop the baby thing.

Dave’s face brightened, “So you’ll do it?”

Noah scoffed at that, “I have a choice? You’ve already told me I don’t.”

Dave thought he should reprimand Noah, but he had kind of deserved that. “It’s pretty much just listen to Daddy, kiddo. I’ll let you know if you’re misbehaving, but I think you’re smart enough to recognize that if I tell you something, you need to obey.”

Noah nodded unhappily, “What about...I really don’t want to be a baby! I mean, I’ll stay here, whatever, but the pacifier and the crib...can’t it just be like it was before?”

“No,” Dave shook his head sympathetically. “I know it’s hard, but you need to learn to trust my judgement, and this is how we’re going to do that. And it’s not going to be all bad. I know you don’t like the crib now, and I’m guessing the diapers, but you’ll get cuddles, and plenty of time to sleep.”

Before Noah could object, Dave stood back up. Arguing about this wasn’t going to make any difference. “Come on then. You slept a long time; I bet you’d like something to eat.”

Noah shifted a bit on the couch. He was hungry, but he had to pee. Standing, he said, “I’ll just be a minute,” and tried to walk toward the bathroom.

“Nope,” Dave’s hand snaked out to grab Noah’s wrist. “You need to stay with me for a while baby.”

“I need to-”

“Mind me. I know that’s what you were saying, right? You need to be a good little boy for Daddy?”

Noah squirmed, uncomfortable. “I’m not-I have to go to the bathroom,” he finally admitted, avoiding eye contact.

Dave pulled Noah closer, wrapping the boy in a warm hug. “That’s why I put you in the diaper baby.” He was expecting a fight about this, but he hadn’t anticipated Noah’s response.

“I can’t!”

He had expected to get punched, not for Noah to cling to him harder, face pressed against him. His baby sounded on the verge of tears.

“I can’t,” he repeated. “‘m not a baby. I’ll-I’ll do whatever Dave. I swear! Just please? No! I can’t do...that.”

Better to get it out of the way then. “You can,” Dave told him evenly. “This isn’t a choice baby. You’re going to use the diapers. Might as well just do it; no point in making yourself miserable.

“No no no no no,” Noah mumbled, shaking his head furiously even as he continued clutching Dave. He was tired and sore and confused, and he really had to pee. Badly. Upset, he began to cry.

“Sorry kiddo; this is happening.”

Dave began slowly moving them both toward the kitchen. Grabbing another baby bottle, Dave filled it with even more cranberry juice. Then, he ran a soft cloth under the warm tap. It was hard to do things single handed, but Noah had his arms wrapped tightly around Dave, and Daddy wasn’t going to let go. Instead, he rubbed his back and managed to maneuver well enough to get everything he needed and then clumsily make their way back to the living room.

“Come on baby,” he said, keeping his tone soothing and matter of fact. Blaine had talked with him about this, and Dave had a couple of things to try. “You’re going to lay down with Daddy now, and we’re going to have a nice bottle while we wait for you to wet your diaper.” 

Dave sat on the couch, pulling Noah down into his lap. It was awkward; even with the weight Noah had lost, he was still fairly tall. It took a moment to get them both situated, and Dave started thinking that he was lucky that Noah was being clingy and upset right now. That certainly made things easier.

Settled on the couch, Daddy cradled Noah a bit, then unbuttoned the complicated outfit so he could pull Noah’s shirt up and tug his pants down just a bit. Laying the warm, wet cloth on Noah’s lower belly, Daddy angled the bottle into Noah’s mouth.

Then, he kept up a comforting patter as he rubbing firmly over the cloth. Blaine had warned that the first time would be hard, and possibly for a while thereafter, but he’d also said that Dave should avoid using a diuretic if possible. He claimed that the washcloth and gentle massage, along with simply not allowing Noah any other option, would take care of this half of the equation.

It seemed to be working too. Although Noah continued to cry, Dave could also see him tensing and releasing his stomach muscles, squirming in discomfort. Pressing down a little harder, Dave was gratified to see Noah lose the fight, even though it meant louder crying.

Daddy continued to rub Noah’s tummy, wanting to make sure that the boy was well and truly done. 

“Such a good boy for Daddy,” he praised. “You did just what I asked! I am so proud of you.”

When it became clear that Noah had finished, Daddy helped him stand up. “Now we’ll just get your diaper changed. Doesn’t that sound nice? Some dry pants, and then we can have breakfast. Do you like oatmeal or eggs?”

Noah didn’t answer, still crying pretty hard, and Daddy decided to continue having the discussion without him. As he helped Noah lay down on the ground, he explained more about breakfast.

“Now, we can’t have eggs every morning because Uncle Blaine said that wouldn’t be good for you, but if you want them this morning, that would be okay. I could make you some eggs and toast. But you have to have juice too. Well, just look at this diaper,” he commented, untaping Noah. “You really had to go pee pee, didn’t you? That must have made your tummy hurt, to try to hold that all in. Next time baby, you just need to do it without getting all worked up.” 

Dave made short work of cleaning Noah up, getting him into a new diaper and fixing his pajamas back together. 

“Alright my baby. Time for breakfast.” He stood, hauling Noah to his feet. “Do you want oatmeal or eggs?”

Sometime during the diaper change, Noah’s tears had tapered off, but he didn’t answer, instead choosing to press himself tighter against Dave. He was embarrassed, and he didn’t know what to say.

“Are you feeling shy?” Dave asked. “Do you want me to make the choice this morning baby?”

Noah nodded quietly, overwhelmed. He was just so tired, and his throat hurt, and he didn’t want this, but Dave was warm and comforting. Daddy rubbed his back.

“I think we should have oatmeal with fruit. I bet that’ll feel good on your throat after all that crying. Let’s get you set up in your chair while I cook.” 

Dave led Noah to the kitchen, pulling a highchair out of the corner where it had been unobtrusively waiting for them.

Overwhelmed or not, Noah balked at that. “I don’t need a high chair! I can sit-”

Dave gave him a firm swat; it didn’t hurt over the thick diaper, but it didn’t feel good. “You can sit exactly where I tell you to, or we can have a discussion about it.”

Noah jumped away from Dave, hands flying back to cover himself. “It’s too much!” he wailed. “You want me to do all this stuff! Can’t I just sit at my normal chair?”

“Noah,” Daddy sounded genuinely sorrowful. “Baby, please just sit down.” He was practically begging, but Noah couldn’t hear it.

“No no no no. Please don’t make me Dave. Please?” Noah had backed himself up against the wall. Dave reached out with one hand and pulled him closer. “Don’t spank me!” Noah cried, trying to pull away.

“No no baby,” Dave said, hugging Noah and rubbing his back. “I know it’s hard right now. I’m asking you to do a lot of new stuff. I’m just going to help you make good choices. Okay? Can you do that for Daddy? Let me help?”

Noah started crying again, but Dave gently moved him over to the high chair and lifted up. “That is my good boy,” he praised. “It’s hard to do this stuff, huh? Just let me help.” Bringing the tray down, Daddy locked Noah into the chair. “Let’s get you something to munch on while I make breakfast. Do you want a banana?”

Dave felt like Noah should respond to him, that allowing him to think that he could just ignore talking was setting a bad precedent. So, putting his face down at eye level for Noah, he repeated, “Do you want a banana?”

Noah shook his head, and Dave said, “No thank you? Is that what you mean?”

“I don’t like bananas,” Noah said, trying to hide his face in his crossed arms. 

Daddy grabbed Noah’s chin, “No thank you Daddy?”

Noah had been crying, but that slowed as he offered an extraordinarily obstinate expression, “I don’t like bananas.”

If Noah thought he could out-stubborn Dave, he was about to learn differently. Daddy looked at him sternly, “Last shot kidlet. Either tell me no thank you, or you’re going to have time out while I make breakfast.”

“Don’t wanna time out,” Noah spat, blushing deeply when he realized how little he’d sounded.

“Then answer my question,” Dave was still in front of the high chair, and he wasn’t going to let this go now. “Would you like a banana?”

“NO NO NO NO NO!” Noah yelled at him. If Dave wanted a kid, then FINE! Noah would be a kid for him. This was all his fault anyway. “I DON’T WAN’ A BANANA, AND I DON’T WAN’ A TIME OUT!”

Daddy was unimpressed, and he calmly lifted the high chair, causing Noah to squawk. If he had been less upset, Noah probably would have been impressed by Daddy somehow lifting the high chair with him in it, but mostly he just wanted to continue his tantrum.

“NO TIME OUT! NO!”

By the time Daddy had the high chair positioned in the corner, he was wondering if he should have tried to lift it. The thing was heavier than it looked. Getting down at Noah’s level again, he said calmly, “You’re going to stay in time out until you calm down and answer my question like the good little boy I know you are. Got it?”

“NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!” Noah fairly shrieked this, banging his hands down in frustration. He wanted OUT of this high chair! He didn’t want to be here! Daddy was NOT FAIR! “You le’ me goooooo!”

Dave had turned away from the chair, pulling out a pot and the container of oatmeal. Once he had it cooking on the stove, he began slicing up fruit. Noah still hadn’t quieted down. Daddy was of the opinion that his baby was throwing a temper tantrum, but it didn’t seem prudent to say that.

“You might want to calm down so you can tell me what you want in your oatmeal Mr. Crabby Pants,” he suggested, not bothering to look at Noah, who went silent at that statement.

Well, silent for a moment at least. Because not 10 seconds after Dave said that, Noah gave a final yell of frustration, throwing himself backward, and taking the chair with him.

Dave jumped at the noise when the high chair fell to the ground, and he made it to Noah before the boy even really registered what had happened. Noah was lying on his back, still strapped in, staring up at the ceiling with wide, shocked eyes.

“Baby? Are you okay?” Dave was frantic as he began unstrapping Noah. “I probably shouldn’t move you. Are you okay?”

That was when the crying really started, and Dave really panicked. Grabbing his cell phone, he hit the speed dial for Blaine.

“He fell! He fell and I may accidentally kill him before I help him get better what do I do?”

Blaine tried to calm Dave down, but he began babbling again, “I just put him in the damn high chair, and he wouldn’t stop-Noah, are you okay?”

Noah had stopped crying, and he was staring up at Dave again, shaking slightly. 

“Oh god! He’s having a seizure or-I should call 911?!?! Right? I should call 911?”

Noah couldn’t help it; he started laughing. Hysterically. Dave looked like he was going to shit himself, and he sounded completely insane.

“Dave? What’s going on?” 

Noah could hear Blaine on the other end of the phone, and he tried desperately to stop laughing. It was impossible.

“I don’t know!”

Blaine started using his doctor voice, “Dave, I need you to calm down. It sounds like he’s fine. Did he hit his head?”

“I don’t know!” Dave sounded more panicked.

“Okay, put him on the phone please,” Blaine said. Whether Noah was little or not, he figured that a responsible doctor would just ask the patient. And it’s not like he didn’t talk to his toddlers at work. 

Dave handed the phone to Noah, who had tears running down his cheeks. 

“Hey kiddo,” Blaine said cheerfully. “Did you bump your noggin?”

Noah managed to get control of himself, “Did you know Dave lost his mind?” he asked seriously, before cracking up again.

“It’s not nice to talk about Daddy that way,” Blaine scolded gently. Noah stopped laughing then, a horrifying realization hitting him.

“What? You knew about this?” He began struggling, trying to get himself out of the high chair. “You knew he was going to kidnap me and hold me against my will? What about the rest of it? I want out of this thing!” he yelled at Dave.

Daddy had been sitting on the floor beside Noah, trying to make his heart stop beating so fast, and he didn’t immediately move, so Noah whipped the cell phone at his head.

“Shit!” Dave yelped, hand to his head. That fucking hurt! 

Noah’s eyes widened when he saw the look on Daddy’s face. Dave picked up the phone from where it was. 

“So he’s okay?” he verified.

“What happened?”

“He threw the fucking phone at my head,” Dave had stood up, and he pointed at Noah who had started laughing again. “This is not funny Noah Aaron Puckerman; you’re already in big trouble, and I’d stop it now if I were you.”

Noah stopped laughing, staring up at Daddy with wide eyes. He didn’t like the way that sounded.

“Dave-” Blaine started.

Dave didn’t want to hear it, “Is he okay?”

“Probably; he sounded fine. You need to stay calm with him though-”

“Thank you Blaine,” Dave interrupted. “I’ll talk to you later.” He hung up the phone, glaring down at Noah.

He wanted to be brave. He really did. But Daddy was glaring at him, and Noah couldn’t help but wince when Daddy reached for him. 

“Don’t hit!” he yelped, throwing both of his arms over his head.

All of the anger that Dave was feeling kind of melted at that, and he sat back down on the floor beside Noah. “I’m not going to hit you. You don’t need to worry about that.”

“‘m not worried; you don’t scare me,” Noah mumbled, arms still covering his face.

“Good,” Dave said. “I don’t want to scare you. You ready to get up now?”

Slowly lowering his arms, Noah looked at Dave, then nodded his assent. It took some maneuvering, but he managed to get himself out of the high chair, and then Daddy pulled him down to sit on the floor.

“How’s your head?” he asked, forcing himself to remain calm.

Noah watched him carefully, mumbling, “It’s okay.”

“Do you hurt anywhere?”

Noah shifted uncomfortably, “My butt still hurts from before.”

“Besides that,” Dave asked, reaching out to cup Noah’s cheek. He frowned when the boy jerked away from him, shaking his head. Dave nodded, “Then we need to have a chat.” 

Noah stared at the ground, not making eye contact as he waited for Dave to kick him out or hit him.

Instead, Dave stood up, pulling Noah to his feet. It was disturbingly easy, and Dave spared a glance at the oatmeal on the stove. He probably had about 15 minutes still; they needed to have this talk, but Noah couldn’t afford to skip any meals. 

Keeping a tight grip on Noah’s hand, Dave stopped at the stove to give the pot a stir before towing Noah to the squishy, oversized chair between the dining room and the kitchen. Sitting down, he drew Noah into his lap.

“We need to have a little talk about appropriate behavior No,” he said quietly, rubbing the boy’s back. “Because what just happened in the kitchen was completely unacceptable. Do you understand me?”

Noah nodded, shamefaced. He felt himself leaning into Dave, even as he tried to convince himself not to. 

“I understand that this isn’t easy for you kiddo, but you absolutely, do not, under any circumstances, throw things at Daddy.”

Noah nodded, and Dave prompted, “What do you say?”

“Sorry,” Noah mumbled.

“Sorry who?”

Blushing to the tips of his ears, Noah mumbled, “Sorry Daddy.”

“That’s better,” Dave continued rubbing Noah’s back. “I ought to spank you for that tantrum, but it’s almost time for breakfast. So, I want you to go back to time out.” Standing Noah up, Daddy patted his butt and pointed to the corner, “Go on.”

Noah was tired, hungry, and sore. He was also intensely confused because mostly, he wanted to crawl back onto Daddy’s lap and get cuddles. Time out seemed less embarrassing and weird. Walking over to the corner, Noah began to lift up the high chair. 

“No kiddo; just stand in the corner.”

Noah did as he was asked, staring at the wall. After a few minutes, he mumbled, “No thank you.”

Daddy had been standing at the stove, stirring berries into the oatmeal. “What’s that baby?” he asked.

Noah sighed, then said, “No thank you bananas,” slightly louder.

“No than-” Daddy stopped. Looking at Noah’s back for a moment, he considered his options. He really should make a point about how unacceptable the tantrum and throwing the phone was, but that was progress. “Come ‘ere baby,” he ordered, stepping away from the stove.

Noah turned, walking slowly to Daddy. When he got in front of Dave, he stood still, staring at the ground. 

Daddy grabbed Noah’s chin, forcing the boy to make eye contact. “Thank you for using your manners; I am so proud of you,” he pulled Noah into a hug. After a moment of hesitation, Noah gave himself over to the gentle comfort, feeling himself relaxing into Dave’s arms. He wanted to stay there.

Daddy hugged Noah for a minute, but then he said, “Do you like strawberries?” he asked.

Noah nodded hesitantly, “Raspberries are better,” he mumbled.

“Oh, you like raspberries better?” Dave gently coaxed Noah over to a regular stool, helping him up onto it. “We’ll have to get some the next time we go to the store. What about drinks. Would you like orange juice or apple?”

“Orange please,” Noah told him, watching as Dave grabbed sippy cups. Why was he getting two? Noah knew he should be asking why there were any sippy cups, but he doubted he’d win that argument any more than he’d won the argument about the bottles.

“That’s good baby,” Daddy said, “Nice manners. You need the vitamin C. Uncle Blaine said that you were just run down, but he also said you needed to be getting lots of rest and vitamins so that you could start to feel better.”

Pouring orange juice into one sippy cup and milk into the other, both were placed in front of Noah. Not wanting a repeat of the banana debacle, Noah gently pushed the milk away, “No thank you.”

“Not a debate kiddo, but thanks for using your manners,” Dave turned from the stove, sliding the cup back in front of Noah. “You need it, so drink up.”

Noah shook his head, “I don’t like milk,” he explained. He could be calm. If he was just calm and polite about it, Dave wouldn’t go ballistic.

“You can be happy there’s only the one cup with breakfast then. Drink your milk,” Dave said firmly, spooning oatmeal into two bowls. 

Noah’s face turned red, “I don’t like it,” he forced out, trying not to lose his temper.

“I heard you the first time, and you still have to drink it baby. Just get it over with; you’re not going to win this argument.”

“Not gonna win any argument,” Noah grouched, putting his head down on the counter. To his surprise, Dave laughed, ruffling Noah’s hair.

“You’ve got that right. Drink your milk.”

Noah sat up, glaring at him, but Daddy just shook his head and laughed again.

“That is a very scary look,” he teased, “but you still need to drink it please. 

“No,” Noah tried. It sounded more like a question than anything.

“Noah Aaron, you don’t tell me no,” Dave wasn’t laughing anymore. Instead, he was giving Noah a very stern look. “Now, you can drink your milk, or you can go sit in time out until you’re ready to obey me.”

Noah sniffled a little, looking pathetic. He didn’t want milk, but he didn’t want a time out either. And he knew that Dave would really make him go to time out. He tried sniffling again, hoping that Daddy would cave.

“That’s very sad, but you still need to drink your milk,” Dave said lightly, setting bowls on the counter. He smiled when Noah lifted the cup to his mouth, drinking it with his eyes screwed shut. “Good boy,” he praised, watching in surprise as Noah chugged the entire cup worth of milk before putting it down and sticking out his tongue.

“Blech,” Noah said, grabbing desperately for the orange juice to cleanse his palate. Daddy refilled the empty cup with some water. He figured keeping Noah well hydrated could only help.

“You are being a very good boy,” Daddy praised again, sitting next to Noah. “Open,” he instructed, holding a spoonful of oatmeal up.

Noah made a face, “I can feed myself.”

“Do you want to go back in the high chair?” Dave asked. It was an empty threat. He needed to take a good look at the chair, make sure it wasn’t damaged at all from Noah’s earlier tantrum. Plus, he was thinking putting some sort of casters on the bottom might help.

“Noooooo,” Noah allowed. “But I could. ‘m not little.”

Dave nodded at that, “Right now, I’m seeing a little baby who can’t even listen to simple instructions. Is that what’s going on?”

“No sir,” Noah said quietly, looking down at the table.

Dave picked up the spoon again, blowing lightly on the oatmeal before he held it to Noah’s lips, “Then open up. Show me what a good boy you can be for Daddy.”

The oatmeal didn’t taste bad, although Noah would have preferred froot loops. And coffee. He managed to make it through breakfast without any further issues, eager to avoid time out or another smack.

“I think I know a baby who needs to take a bath,” Dave told him as he did the dishes.

Noah looked up from the paper that Daddy had given him. He wasn’t coloring; grown ups played with crayons too. He didn’t like the idea of a bath.

“I want a shower.” After a moment, he added, “Please.”

Dave smiled down at the soapy water, not wanting Noah to see it. Scrubbing the pot out, he said matter of factly, “Babies take baths, sweetpea. Showers are for big boys.”

That got a grouchy little noise and a pout, but Noah didn’t dare argue with Dave. He needed to figure out what was going on and how he was going to get himself out of this situation. So when Daddy held out his hand, Noah took it slowly, then followed him up the stairs.

His resolution to not argue with Daddy was shaken when he realized that Dave fully intended to give him his bath, but he managed to keep his mouth shut, allowing Dave to undress him and pop him into the warm water.

Noah didn’t want to find it relaxing, but between the warm, steamy heat of the bathroom and the soothing scratch of Dave’s fingers across his skin and his head, he couldn’t help but let out a little shiver of contentment.

Dave noticed it again; Noah Puckerman definitely responded well to touch. He needed to make sure to use that more. It’s not like Dave was averse to spanking Noah if he had to, but he’d much rather get the boy to behave because he wanted to behave rather than to avoid punishment.

“Such a good boy,” Daddy praised, scrubbing at Noah’s hair with baby shampoo. “What would you like to do after bath time?”

Noah shrugged, letting Dave wash him. 

Daddy continued, “We could play with some toys. Do you want to see the new toys Daddy bought for you? Or we can play with play dough? Or read stories. What sounds like fun to my Noah?”

Noah shrugged again.

“Noah,” Daddy chided gently, “use your words. It’s not polite to ignore Daddy.”

Pulling his knees to his chest, Noah pressed his face against them, “Can’t you just leave me alone?” he asked quietly.

Dave felt awful at that, and he gently ran his fingers through Noah’s hair. “I’m not doing this to be mean, bug. I swear, I just want to help make you happy.”

Noah sniffled, not moving.

“Can you pick something for Daddy? Hmmm?”

Noah shook his head, finally mumbling, “I don’t care.” It didn’t matter what they did. Dave would still be acting weird, and Noah would still be stuck here.

Dave took pity on Noah then, deciding to finish up the bath and get him out into the nursery. “Thank you for answering Daddy; that is a very good boy.”

He finished the bath quickly, helping Noah stand up and climb out. Wrapping him tightly in one towel, Dave dried him off then sent him into the nursery with a gently swat. Dave watched the baby walk to the rocking chair and sit, and then he hurriedly picked up the bathroom.

Going out to Noah, Daddy knelt in front of him, “Thank you for listening so well during your bath,” he praised, taking both of Noah’s hands between his. He knew that what he had to say next was not going to go over well, so he tried to make himself sound as matter of fact as possible. “It’s time to get someone into a clean diaper and some warm clothes. Do you want daytime clothes or jammies?”

Noah gave a miserable little moan, “No diaper.”

Everything that Dave had read and heard said that giving Noah choices would help him retain some sense of autonomy and control, but it appeared that it was just making the situation worse. So rather than dignifying Noah’s pathetic response, Daddy stood up and grabbed a diaper and a new sleeper.

“I think that you’ll be more comfortable in jammies, huh bug? We’ll get you all nice and cozy, and then we can spend some time doing something fun.”

“Noooooooooooo,” Noah whined.

Daddy ignored it, pulling Noah to his feet and gently but firmly corralling him over to the changing table. He narrated quietly, “Let’s get you into something warm before you get sick.” 

It was appalling easy to pick Noah up and get him onto the changing table, and not for the first time, Daddy felt overwhelmed by the amount of things that were wrong with the baby at the moment. He was way too thin, not to mention the nagging cough. Maybe he should have Blaine come down and look Noah over.

“Dave?” Noah interrupted him, voice quiet and very little.

It was hard, but Dave ignored him. He’d talked about this with Noah; if he wanted a response, then Noah needed to just say ‘Daddy.’ Helping Noah to lay back, Dave reached down to grab a diaper.

“I don’t wan’ a diaper,” Noah whined, frustrated. “I can wear underwear. Boxers? Boxer briefs? Superman underoos? I’ll do everything else Dave. I promise I’ll do everything else! But just no diaper please!”

Dave continued to ignore the dialogue, “Hips up, bug. Let Daddy get this under you, and then we’ll get you dressed.”

This was it. Noah hadn’t been able to object to having the diaper put on earlier, and he hadn’t been able to go to the bathroom. It was better to have Dave change him out of wet pants. But this was the point where he had to make his stand, or it was like he was agreeing with what was going on.

“No.”

Dave sighed, a sound of genuine upset, and he fixed his gaze on Noah. “You know how this is going to end, bug. We’ve already had this debate. You’re going to argue, then I’m going to put the diaper on anyway. Do you want a spanking first? Because if you don’t do what you’re told now, then that’s what’s going to happen.”

Noah’s butt clenched at that, but he couldn’t just give in. He shook his head stubbornly and repeated himself, “No. No diaper. You’re being unreasonable.”

Dave nodded, “If that’s how you feel,” he said softly, rolling the man onto his stomach and easily pinning him with a hand to the center of his back. “You just let me know when you’re ready to behave yourself, and we can go ahead and put the diaper on then.”

With that, he cracked his hand down hard, not bothering to say anything else. It hurt from the start, and Noah was wiggling and trying to buck away from Dave. He wasn’t going to give up! If he did, then he’d never get out of here.

Even as he felt hot tears slipping unbidden down his cheek, Noah wouldn’t tell Dave to stop. He wasn’t going to ask for that diaper. He wasn’t.

Seeing what was becoming a very familiar stubborn set to Noah’s jaw, Daddy stopped, continuing to pin Noah. “You ready yet, bug?”

“No,” Noah choked out, trying desperately to not sob.

“Alright baby,” Daddy said sadly, grabbing the hairbrush out of the basket of toiletry items. Raising it above Noah, he slapped it down hard.

Noah howled, shrieking and thrashing. He only made it half a dozen wallops before he began begging. “No more! No more no more! Please Dave!”

“You tell Daddy that you’re ready for your diaper, and we’ll be done.” With intense effort, Dave was able to keep going.

It took a few more slaps of the brush, but Noah gasped out, “Please no more. I’ll wear it!”

“You’ll wear what?” Daddy punctuated himself with another swat.

“I’ll wear the diaper,” Noah moaned.

Dave stopped spanking, although he held Noah still. “I’m not hearing any manners from you, bug.”

Noah shook his head, rubbing at his face with his hands. “I’m sorry I said no?” he hazarded.

“What would you like me to do now?” Dave asked, voice gentle even as he held Noah down firmly.

“Stop spanking me?” Noah sounded hysterical.

“What would make the spanking stop though, huh bug? Can you ask Daddy to put your diaper on?”

Noah let out a wail of mortification, burying his face in his hands, and Dave forced himself to land a few more smacks. They were almost there; no point in chickening out now.

“Please diaper now,” Noah mumbled, face burning.

Dave nodded, hating himself a little, “Please diaper now who?”

“Daddy,” Noah whispered. Dave could barely hear him, but he figured it was enough.

“Thank you. That’s a good boy,” Daddy crooned, taking his hand from Noah’s back and gently rolling him onto his back. Noah cried out, arching in an effort to get his butt off of the table. “I know bug. I know it hurts. Let’s get you dressed, and then we can have some cuddles.”

Noah covered his face with his hands, crying. He couldn’t even get Dave to not use diapers; he had cried over getting spanked! People spanked little kids, and he had cried. He never used to cry, and he didn’t like that he apparently cried over everything when he was with Dave.

For his part, Dave was trying to do what he could to soothe Noah. That had been necessary, but that didn’t mean it had been fun. Although he wasn’t going to apologize for doing something that he really thought was for Noah’s own good, Dave figured that Noah didn’t need to know that the diaper cream Daddy was now smearing so liberally over the scorched little backside was more to soothe the heat and less about nonexistent diaper rash.

That accomplished Dave murmured, “Hips up, bug.” This time, Noah complied immediately, and Daddy made short work of getting the diaper snapped up, using a little powder first. Then, Daddy grabbed a fleecy sleeper, opting for solid blue. It did still have feet, but Dave figured that Noah could be spared the indignity of pajamas with airplanes or ducks on them for now.

Noah allowed Daddy to dress him, wincing and letting out little, hitching sobs when he was forced to sit up. Before Dave could help him hop down from the table, Noah reached out for Dave.

Noah was heavy. He was lighter than he had been, disturbingly light, but he was still a big man. Regardless, Dave couldn’t help but pick the man up. With a grunt, he managed to get Noah rested on his hip, then he slowly made his way out of the room. Snagging the crib blanket on the way, Daddy went to the living room and sat on the couch, helping to settle Noah into a comfortable position so they could snuggle.

Noah’s tears had trailed off into little hiccups, and he allowed Daddy to cover him up with the blanket. Dave grabbed a tissue from a nearby table, “Blow,” he ordered, holding it to Noah’s nose. Noah did, and allowed Daddy to use another tissue to wipe the tears off of his face. Then, taking the edge of the blanket, Noah covered up the bottom half of his face so only his eyes peered out.

“Poor baby,” Daddy told him. “It’s been a rough day. Should we watch some TV?”

Noah nodded slowly, and Dave turned on the television, finding some cartoons. “Are you thirsty?” That got a shaken head, and so they sat together in silence, Daddy keeping one warm arm wrapped around Noah. 

As he felt himself relaxing more, Noah slid further and further, until his head was resting in Dave’s lap. When Dave began playing with Noah’s hair, Noah couldn’t bring himself to object. Rather, he laid there quietly, watching cartoons with increasingly droopy eyes, until he fell asleep.

When Dave heard Noah’s breathing ease to the gentle, slow rhythm of someone who was sound asleep, Dave reached for his phone. Pressing the number on speed dial, he made his phone call.

“Hey, so he’s asleep now, but are you sure he doesn’t need you to come and examine him? He’s still sounding really raspy.”

Blaine, sitting on the couch in their apartment with Kurt, looked at his boyfriend. “Yes, I’m sure. It’s a cold, Dave. You need to just do what we talked about. Plenty of fluids and rest, and he should bounce right back. You can give him some cough syrup if you think that will help, but only if the coughing starts to keep him awake.”

“Ask him if he spanked the baby again,” Kurt ordered, feet resting in Blaine’s lap. He appeared completely entranced by his magazine, but they had been waiting restlessly for this call.

“Yes,” Dave answered, not waiting for Blaine to relay. He could hear the question. “But not for the phone thing. I just put him back in time until he answered my question properly. But after that, he wouldn’t let me put the diaper back on after his bath, and I had to spank him for that. And if Kurt thinks he can do a better job...” Dave trailed off. He’d been planning on telling Kurt that he was welcome to come and pick up Noah, but he wouldn’t mean that. “Then he can keep his damn opinions to himself,” he ended half-heartedly. 

Kurt rolled his eyes at Blaine. He had known this was going to happen, but he was a bit surprised it had happened so fast. Of course, Dave had certainly been working on his daddying since high school.

“Whatever Dave; I wasn’t saying you shouldn’t have spanked him again. Although the poor thing can probably barely sit down now.”

“He’s fine,” Dave said, feeling guilty. He hadn’t wanted to spank Noah, but he had to set boundaries.

Luckily for Dave, Blaine had a pretty good idea of what was going on, “You know what you said; you needed to start out the way you expected things to go, or he was going to get confused. All of these spankings won’t be for forever.”

Dave nodded, gently stroking Noah’s hair. Things would get better; he knew they would. Nonetheless, he listened as Blaine gave him a little pep talk.

“Fluids, rest, and food. Just make sure he doesn’t spike a fever above 100 degrees, and that the coughing doesn’t get worse,” Blaine said, before hanging up.

Noah slept for a solid hour, confirming Dave’s opinion that the poor baby had been completely sleep deprived while with Santana. Daddy had slipped away midway through the nap so he could grab a bottle with juice, and as soon as Noah’s eyes fluttered open, he found the nipple slid into his mouth.

He made a little noise of irritation, batting at the bottle before Dave grabbed his hands. “No no. Drink your juice, bug. The doctor said you needed juice.”

“Just Blaine,” Noah mumbled sleepily.

“Yeah, just Uncle Blaine, but he is a doctor. It’s grape. Do you like grape?” Dave kept his voice quiet, hoping that Noah would accept the bottle with more grace if he was still half asleep.

Noah nodded sleepily, allowing Dave to reposition the bottle in his mouth. After drinking the juice down, he let out a little whine. “Hurts.” His bladder was very full.

“What’s hurting my Noah?” Daddy asked, stroking Noah’s hair.

That got a slight shift, then a whispered, “I don’t want to use the diaper.”

Daddy nodded at that. It was a statement of fact; Noah wasn’t going to want to use the diapers. Dave had known that going in. “Do you want my help again, bug? I can get a washcloth.”

Tears starting up again, Noah nodded. As humiliating as this whole thing was, he had to pee, and he knew that Dave wasn’t going to let him use the bathroom. He was sore and overwrought. Might as well get it over with.

He was regretting his decision a moment later, when Dave climbed back onto the couch, unbuttoning the sleeper so he could easily reach Noah’s belly. Laying the washcloth down, Dave began the firm massaging motion that he’d discussed with Blaine.

Noah tried to squirm free. “I changed my mind,” he said, sounding frantic. “I don’t have to! I don’t have to pee really right now. I’ll just wait.”

“Babies don’t wait,” Daddy said calmly, pinning the other man and continuing his assault. “Eventually, you’ll just go without even thinking about it.”

Noah wiggled and moaned, giving in to the inevitable and wetting himself, even as he whined, “I hate thiiiiiissssssss.”

“I know, bug.” Daddy told him. “It’s hard right now, but you’re being such a good boy for me. Shall we go get you some dry pants?”

Face flaming, Noah wanted to say no. He wanted to tell Dave that he wasn’t going to participate in this crazy experiment. But then, he shifted, and he felt the diaper squishing around him.

Avoiding eye contact, he nodded. He drew the line at allowing Dave to carry him back to the nursery, docilely following along behind him and allowing Dave to pick him up and put him on the table.

Dave praised Noah every step of the way, making a big deal out of the littlest act of participation, which made it impossible for Noah to pretend that things weren’t happening. By the time that Daddy pressed a cold wipe to his skin, Noah was near tears.

Blaine had warned that things would be easier if he kept Noah just a bit off balance, but Dave felt horribly about the whole thing. He knew Noah needed this, and if Dave was being completely honest, he wanted this. He just wished that Noah understood how much he needed a Daddy.

Dave made quick work of the diaper change, talking quietly to Noah as he worked. He smoothed another thick layer of cream on Noah’s still pink butt, then got him diapered and dressed again. Taking his thumbs, Dave rubbed the tears from Noah’s cheeks.

“All done. Do you feel better now that we’ve got that icky diaper off of you?”

Noah nodded, not even thinking about it. Once he realized that he’d just agreed, his eyes widened and he jerked away from Daddy.

“What would you like to do bug?” Daddy asked, hoping that Noah would recapture the cuddliness from earlier. 

“Put on grown up clothes and have you stop calling me bug,” Noah said. “It’s a stupid nickname,” he added.

Dave couldn’t help but laugh at that, even though he knew he shouldn’t be encouraging that kind of sauciness. Deciding it was better to give Noah an idea of what he could do, Daddy explained, “We can play with play dough or read stories. Which would you prefer?”

“I don’t want to do anything with you.”

Dave had set up a playpen in an alcove off the dining room. Hidden behind a screen, he had thought it would work well if Noah needed to nap while Daddy was cooking. There was a pillow and some toys in there. Deciding that allowing Noah some space while he was awake might be helpful, Dave figured he could get a start on a late lunch. Their schedule was all thrown off for the day, but Dave figured that Noah could use any calories he could get.

So, hoisting Noah on his hip, Daddy turned and began making his way downstairs while Noah protested loudly.

“Pu’ me down! I don’ want you carryin’ me! Dave! Stop it! ‘m gonna-”

Dave stopped walking, fixing Noah with a look. “You’re going to do what, little man? Because you know exactly how Daddy deals with naughtiness.”

Noah lapsed into silence, firing a hurt look at Dave, and Daddy decided to get Noah settled as quickly as possible. He’d get Noah in the playpen, fix him a bottle, then make lunch.

The silence was interrupted when Noah caught sight of the playpen hidden behind the folding screen.

“NO! No Dave! I don’t- Don’t put me in there!” Noah squirmed wildly, trying to get away. “‘m not a baby!”

Dave tried to ignore the arguing, calmly going through what was going to happen. “Daddy put some fun toys in here for you, and you can play by yourself for a little bit while I get some lunch together. I’ll just be right in the kitchen. You’re nice and dry, and I’m going to get you a nice bottle. Do you want tomato soup for lunch, or would you rather have chicken?”

“No!”

Dave put Noah down in the playpen. It was a tall, heavy piece of furniture, with a door that swung outward and latched in such a way that only someone on the outside could help Noah out. Even standing, Noah couldn’t get out. Pressing a kiss to the side of Noah’s head, Daddy gave a final smile.

“I’m going to get you a bottle. You stay here and play with your toys,” Dave turned and walked into the kitchen. He could hear everything, and from the stove, he could watch Noah. 

His baby stood gripping the side, glaring at him for several long minutes before finally settling gingerly on the bottom of the playpen. Dave intentionally kept his face expressionless, appearing wholly focused on warming a bottle of vanilla flavored formula.

By the time he had the bottle ready, Noah had picked up a small dinosaur and was running his fingers restlessly over its plates.

Leaning over the side of the playpen, Daddy put the bottle down and ruffled Noah’s hair. “That’s my good boy,” he murmured, before standing back up and walking back to the kitchen.

He shouldn’t have been surprised to hear the thunk a moment later, and he tried to ignore the subsequent noises. As he heated up tomato soup and made grilled cheese sandwiches, Noah systematically picked up every toy he had and threw it out of the playpen.

When Noah was left without toys, Dave watched him pick up the bottle and look at him appraisingly.

“Do not throw that bottle; if that formula is on the floor, I’m going to spank you again Noah Aaron Puckerman, and then you’re going to be sitting on an even sorer little bottom for lunch.”

Angry as Noah was, he put the bottle down. Glaring at Dave, he gave a little kick to the side of the playpen. Daddy ignored it, so Noah did it again. 

“I’m bored!”

Dave nodded at that, cutting one of the sandwiches into four triangles and putting tomato soup into bowls. “That’s why I gave you toys to play with. I’m busy right now, but after lunch, you can try playing with your toys again.”

“No!” Noah said, kicking the side of the pen again.

Dave was looking over the high chair, checking for any damage, but he stopped and stood up fully, walking to Noah so he could tower over him. “Excuse me? Do you want to try that again?”

“You’re over here,” Noah pointed out, gesturing for the toys.

He regretted that a moment later when Daddy grabbed him by one hand and pulled him up on to his knees, spanking him several times. Even over the diaper, he was sore. 

“Ouch! Owwwwww. Stoooooppppp.”

Daddy let him go, and Noah sank onto his butt, his only concern being protecting himself from further chastisement. 

“You don’t tell Daddy ‘no’. It’s naughty. And I’m not giving you back your toys. We’re going to eat lunch, and then you can try playing with them. Do you understand?”

Noah was pouting, arms crossed over his chest. “Understand,” he gritted out, sounding furious.

Dave wanted to make Noah say, ‘Understand, Daddy.’ He thought it was important to be reinforcing that idea, that Dave was Daddy. But, Dave also wanted Noah to eat his lunch, and he figured it was more important to get that accomplished. So, with a sigh, he returned to the high chair, verifying that it was safe for his baby.

“Drink your bottle,” he ordered over his shoulder, standing the chair up and setting the food up so they could sit at the counter.

He was unsurprised to find the bottle still full when he glanced over his shoulder at Noah, but he simply raised an eyebrow. “I know one little boy who is going to be getting a lot more spankings if he can’t learn to do what he’s told.

Noah raised the bottle to his lips, sullenly sucking at the formula. It actually didn’t taste so bad, and by the time Daddy came to get him out of the playpen, it was actually half empty.

“Good boy,” Daddy praised, unhooking the side of the pen and helping Noah to stand up. “Are you hungry for some lunch?”

In spite of himself, Noah felt warmth spread through his chest at the praise. Tamping down on that as hard as he could, he simply nodded. He was hungry, and he had to eat. No reason to piss Dave off over nothing.

He obediently followed Daddy to the kitchen, allowing Dave to settle him into the high chair. He wasn’t thrilled with Dave holding a spoonful of soup to his lips, but he ate.

His cooperation gained him a little freedom, in the form of Dave placing a quarter of the sandwich on his tray. “Can you be my big boy and eat that up?” Daddy asked, taking a bite of his own sandwich.

Noah didn’t respond, quickly picking up the grilled cheese and taking a large bite. Crazy or not, Dave was a pretty good cook, and Noah was hungry.

Lunch moved along easily, and Noah relaxed a little. Things were maybe not awful if he did what Dave told him to. Dave even talked with him, not the stupid baby talk, but a casual conversation about nothing.

He was brought back to the reality of his situation when Dave stood up to clean, and Noah remembered that he was strapped in a high chair, wearing a diaper and a sleeper with feet. As he was contemplating his next move, Dave handed him something.

“You did such a good job eating your lunch,” Daddy praised, putting the chocolate chip cookie in Noah’s hands. 

When Noah raised the cookie to his lips, Dave caught his hand, “What do you say?”

“Thank you,” Noah mumbled, trying not to yell at Dave; he was too sore.

“Who are you saying thank you to?”

He clenched his jaw, but Noah grumbled, “Thank you, Daddy.”

“Good boy,” Dave praised again, letting go of Noah’s hand and running gentle fingers through his hair. “After lunch, it’s going to be quiet time.”

Noah didn’t want any fucking quiet time. As he watched Dave clean up, he thought carefully about how he was going to get himself the hell out of this situation.

Swinging his legs restlessly, Noah tried his first plan, “I would like down now please.” Dave liked manners. 

“In a little bit, bug. Little boys need to stay where their daddies can see them,” Dave answered, sounding preoccupied.

“I’ll stay here,” Noah said. “I just don’t wanna be in the high chair anymore. Please. ‘m sick of sitting.”

Daddy walked to the high chair, “Is it hard on your sore bottom, my Noah? You can go in the playpen if you like that plan better.”

“Just down. Please.” After a moment, Noah added, “Daddy.”

Dave smiled, chucking Noah under the chin, “Your choices right now are playpen or high chair. Daddy will play with you after quiet time, but for now, you have to be someplace safe.”

Noah crossed his arms over his chest, letting out a frustrated huff. That hadn’t worked. Daddy just smiled at him again, ruffling his hair.

“Do you want to read stories for quiet time, or would you rather just listen to music?”

“Wanna be left ‘lone,” Noah muttered.

Dave shook his head, returning to cleaning up the kitchen. “After lunch is quiet time, when I get to cuddle my favorite little boy.”

Noah rested his head on his arms. “So there’s a schedule?” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. He didn’t want cuddles. He didn’t.

“Yup,” Dave willfully ignored the tone. “When we wake up in the morning, it’s time for breakfast. Then, you have playtime. After playtime is nap, then lunch, then quiet time.”

“I don’t WANT quiet time.”

“Quiet time comes after lunch. Little boys need lots of rest; after that, we’ll play again. Do you think we should read or cuddle?”

“No.”

Okay, Dave had kind of walked into that one. “Noah, we’re doing one or the other. We can just read stories, or we can cuddle. If you want to do both, that’s fine. But you need to pick by the time the kitchen is clean, or I’ll be picking for you.”

Noah pouted at that, then moved on to his new plan. “DOWN! I WANT DOWN!”

“I can’t hear yelling,” Dave responded calmly.

“Babies yell lots.”

Dave turned, giving Noah a stern look, “Noah Aaron Puckerman, I don’t want to hear any more yelling. If I do, you’re getting a spanking.”

Noah really didn’t want a spanking, so he sat in the high chair, pouting, as he watched Daddy clean up the rest of the kitchen. Once that was accomplished, Dave unlatched the high chair and helped him hop down.

“I don’t want you,” Noah said stubbornly. “I don’t want cuddles at all.”

Dave nodded at that, considering his options. He didn’t think forcing Noah to cuddle was the best plan, but he felt like that comfort was important.

“How about we watch a movie, bug?”

Noah was suspicious of that plan, but he figured it was better than being forced to read a story. He nodded slowly, and Dave led him out to the living room.

“We can watch Mary Poppins, or Lion King.”

“Those are baby movies!”

“Mary Poppins or Lion King, my Noah. Or, we can read a story. What sounds like the best plan to you?”

Noah squirmed, unhappy. Finally, he muttered, “Lion King. But I’m not cuddling with you!”

“That’s fine,” Dave said, serene. He led the boy over to the couch, getting him settled with his blanket, then he popped the DVD in. Sitting on the couch, Dave turned the movie on, then waited.

Noah Puckerman was a closet cuddler. Anyone who had spent any significant amount of time with him knew that. Dave figured if he bided his time, he would end up with a lapful of little boy.

It took until the scene in the elephant graveyard before Noah made any move toward Dave, but by the stampede, Noah was practically in Daddy’s lap. And by the end of Timon and Pumbaa’s first song, Noah was fast asleep, nestled comfortably against Daddy. Dave’s plan had worked.

When Noah woke up from his nap, he seemed subdued. He ate dinner without a complaint, then blushingly allowed Daddy to give him a bath. After stories and some more playtime, Noah found himself settled into bed. Once he was there, he began thinking about his next move. 

When he woke up the next morning, he had to pee. Badly. And although he wanted to beg Dave to let him use the toilet, he knew exactly how that conversation would go, and he figured that it was less humiliating to simply do it himself, before Dave came in.

So, concentrating as hard as he could, Noah forced himself to let go. As he wet the diaper, hot tears of humiliation ran down his cheeks. He allowed himself the luxury of a little sniffling, but he stopped as soon as Dave came in.

“Hi baby,” Daddy crooned, swinging out the side on the crib. “Let’s get your diaper changed, then we can have some breakfast.”

Noah tried to pretend to be somewhere else as Dave lifted him onto the changing table and unzipped his sleeper. It got harder when Dave started in with praise.

“Look at that! What a good baby! You are such a good boy for Daddy, aren’t you bug? You wet your diaper, all on your own!”

Noah forced himself not to sob out his humiliation. Things only got worse when Dave moved onto what he considered the next step in the process.

“Still no messy diaper? Does your tummy hurt, bug?”

Noah shook his head no, biting the inside of his cheeks. Even as he did it though, he became aware of that familiar, heavy feeling in his stomach.

Dave saw the expression on Noah’s face, and he bit back a groan. He had known this was going to be the harder part for Noah, and he knew what he needed to do, but he also knew that Noah wasn’t going to like it.

“Okay, bug. Here’s the deal: you have to use your diaper. If you do it without my help, that’s great. If you need my help, that’s fine too. But if you don’t have a messy diaper by lunchtime, Daddy is going to think you need help. Is that what you want?”

“I’m not going to shit in this fucking diaper, Karofsky,” Noah bit out, furious.

Dave’s face hardened, and Noah felt himself shrinking back against the table, suddenly aware of how very naked his ass was. 

“That was your one freebie for the day, Noah Aaron. If you curse at Daddy again, then there are going to be consequences. Do you like Daddy having to spank your bottom?”

Noah shook his head at that, eyes widening. He did NOT like that.

“What do you say?”

Not looking at Dave, Noah mumbled, “No Daddy.”

“No Daddy what?”

“I don’t like it when you, you know.”

“Spank your naughty bottom?” Dave smiled at that, his eyes looking kinder than Noah expected.

Noah bit his lip, nodding, and Daddy quickly wrapped him back into a diaper, then put him in a fresh sleeper. It still had feet, but that actually felt kind of good. Then snaking Noah’s blanket from the crib, Daddy carried the boy down the stairs.

Noah found himself again strapped into the high chair, watching as Daddy put together breakfast. He obediently allowed eggs to be spooned into his mouth, horrifyingly thrilled with Daddy’s reward of eating his toast without assistance. Then, Dave settled him down onto the floor in the living room, where he dumped out a box of blocks.

Rather than being left to his own devices, Noah found himself being ‘entertained’ by Dave. At least, he assumed that was Dave’s intent. And, Dave was pretty good with the blocks. They built together, not speaking much, their silence only broken by Dave’s repeated question.

“Any messy diapers yet, bug?” Dave would ask, pulling Noah over to pat.

It kept jerking Noah right out of the calm state that he was trying to reach, where he could ignore the sleeper and the diaper and the fact that Dave wanted to be called Daddy. It also reminded him that his bottom was still a bit sore, and that kept Noah from saying something naughty.

Instead, blushing deeply each time, Noah would shake his head no. As the morning progressed, Dave became more insistent.

“Still clean, Noah? Do you want Daddy’s help?”

Noah shook his head no, very adamantly, at that. He wasn’t sure what Daddy meant by help, but he knew that the other times Dave had helped, there had been spankings. 

Dave smiled kindly, “Okay baby, but you need to go poo poo in your diaper then. It’s not good for you to hold it in; it’s going to make you sick.”

“Not gonna,” Noah muttered. Sore or not, Dave was out of his mind if he thought that Noah Puckerman was going to voluntarily shit in a diaper.

Dave nodded at that, responding, “Yes, you are. I think it’s time for a morning snack, then someone’s going to take a little nap. I want a messy diaper from you by lunchtime though. Understand?”

“Not. Going. To.”

Daddy stood up, easily hoisting Noah onto his hip, then carried him into the dining room. Settling him into the playpen, Daddy latched it and went to the kitchen, returning a moment later with a bottle full of apple juice.

“Drink your juice, bug. I’m going to make you a snack,” he explained, handing the bottle to Noah, whose hands itched to reach out and smack it straight from Daddy’s hand. He settled for not reaching for it, forcing Daddy to put the bottle down. “I want that gone by the time I finish up.”

Noah resolutely ignored him, staring off into space. Dave decided to ignore it. As he walked into the kitchen, he took several breaths and reminded himself about everything he knew about attention seeking behavior. Noah had always been a fan of it, and this was nothing new.

Opening the cookie jar, Dave considered the contents. He’d given Noah one of these the day before, and it hadn’t done much. Of course, he’d added a little molasses to the juice, along with something to help Noah sleep. He had a few tricks. 

Placing three of the cookies on a plastic plate, Daddy quickly filled a bowl with applesauce, stirring in some psyllium powder before popping it into the microwave. He felt awful about this, but the sooner it was over and done with, the sooner that Noah could get comfortable with the idea of diapers.

Dave pulled the applesauce back out, giving it another quick stir before he put it next to the cookies on the counter and added another bottle with water in it.

“I’m coming over to get someone out of the playpen, and I’m hoping that juice is all gone in his tummy now,” Dave warned, walking over to the pen.

Stubborn or not, Noah had drank the juice. He did not, however, appear to be paying any attention to Dave. Daddy picked him up and settled him into the high chair, and Noah pretended as though he didn’t notice anything.

“Open,” Daddy murmured, sitting down in front of Noah and holding a spoonful of warmed applesauce to the boy’s mouth.

Noah didn’t move, although Dave saw a hint of something flash in his eyes.

“No,” Daddy warned, “you don’t have to look at me or talk to me, but you do need to obey me. Open up and eat your applesauce, please.”

Obstinance and self preservation warred within Noah for a moment, before he reluctantly opened his mouth. He allowed Daddy to spoon feed him the applesauce, which actually tasted kind of okay.

Dave pretended that Noah was actively participating, keeping up a running commentary about Kurt had shown him how to make applesauce, and it was really better than the jarred stuff. He promised that once Noah was more used to things, they could go to an apple orchard and then Daddy would teach Noah how to make applesauce too. Like Noah cared.

Once the applesauce was all done, Daddy set the plate with cookies on it on top of Noah’s tray, along with the bottle of cold water. “Now, I want you to drink that all up, and eat your cookies, mister. You did a good job listening to Daddy and eating your applesauce.” Standing, he leaned to kiss Noah’s head, murmuring, “My good Noah.”

Noah wanted to throw the cookies across the room. How dare Dave do this? How dare he pretend that Noah needed this? He furiously ignored the warmth that he felt whenever Dady praised him.

Daddy was moving around the kitchen, doing a little washing up and emptying the dishwasher. Looking at Noah, he said, “Eat your snack, baby. It’s naptime after this, and I don’t want a grumbly tummy waking you up too soon.”

Glaring at the cookies, Noah picked one up and took a bite. Dave did make good cookies, and Noah liked cookies. He ate them all, drinking the water down as well. Noah had no idea what Dave’s weird hydration fixation was, but he figured it had something to do with humiliating him as much as possible by forcing him to wet himself. 

Once Noah’s snack was finished, Daddy put the plate and bottle on the table, then released Noah from the high chair.

“It’s time for a certain little someone’s nap,” Dave narrated, picking Noah up without giving him the option of arguing.

Noah wanted to tell Dave that he didn’t want a nap, but he was feeling tired. In spite of himself, he let his head drift to rest on Daddy’s shoulder, letting out a little sigh. He was really tired!

“Why I gotta nap?” he mumbled, yawning mightily.

Dave smiled at that, grabbing the blanket and carrying Noah up to his crib. He wanted the baby sleeping in the most comfortable place he could, and he was hoping that Noah wouldn’t even wake up until after.

“Because babies need lots of sleep,” he murmured, opening the door to the nursery.

Noah grumbled a bit at that, “Not a baby. ‘m big. I didn’t sleep so much before.”

Even as he complained, Noah allowed Daddy to lay him down in the crib, check his still dry diaper, and then get him snuggled cozily under the covers. Dave was pretty good at that. Rolling sleepily onto his side, Noah glared blearily up at Dave.

“Don’t need a nap,” he said.

“I can see that. Someone’s got a massive sleep debt to make up for, and you’re going to be napping at least twice a day until it’s gone. Now close your eyes, little man. Daddy’s just going to be in the study, and I can hear you if you call. Sweet dreams, my baby,” Dave kissed Noah on the forehead, then got the side of the crib up and latched in place.

He knew he should probably order Noah to stay in the crib. Honestly, he knew Blaine would be telling him that Noah needed the mittens so he couldn’t just get out, but Dave didn’t want to do that. Noah was making such progress, and Daddy really thought that trusting him was important.

He decided to make do with a little threat, “I’ve got the monitor on, so I’ll hear any little boys who aren’t taking naps like they’re supposed to. Understand?”

Noah nodded sleepily, eyes closing. Dave watched in amusement as the other boy dropped right off to sleep, his hand moving up to his mouth. Daddy loved the way that Noah sucked his thumb; it was further proof of how much he’d needed this.

Dave tried to work. He left Noah in the nursery, covered up and fast asleep, with the monitor on and the door cracked. It was no use.

He stealthily crept back to the nursery, grabbing yet another bottle on his way. Sitting down in the overstuffed rocking chair, he read quietly. He’d be there when Noah filled his diaper, and then Daddy could fix it. Noah was going to need a lot of reminders that this was a good thing, and Dave couldn’t stand the thought that Noah would experience one moment of doubt that Daddy could handle even this.

He had a while to wait. Noah slept for close to two hours before Dave saw any suggestion that Blaine’s suggestions were working. Then, the boy began shifting more and letting out the occasional whimper. It was a while of that still, and Dave felt awful seeing the boy uncomfortable. Finally, it happened.

Dave wasn’t sure what it was at first, but Noah woke up within a split second of it starting, eyes wide with panic and fists clenching as he tried to will himself to stop. 

It was no use. He’d been trying not to for a while, and the combination of everything...he couldn’t overcome it. Noah began to sob, burying his face in the pillow and pulling the blanket well over himself. Then, to add insult to injury, his bladder twinged and he wet himself.

“Oh baby,” Daddy said, walking to the crib and rubbing at the Noah shaped lump. He could smell the diaper now, and Blaine’s mix had definitely worked. “It’s alright. Someone’s got a poopy mess, huh?”

Noah wailed louder at that, holding tightly to the blanket so Dave couldn’t pull it off. Finally, Dave settled for lifting the boy up, blanket in hands, and carrying him to the changing table.

“All this fuss, my Noah, and just for a messy diaper? I think we can handle it, don’t you? We’ll get you all cleaned up, and I bet your tummy feels a lot better now that you’ve taken care of that.”

Noah kept crying, pulling at the blanket until it completely covered his face. He couldn’t believe he’d done that! Ignoring Daddy’s prattle, Noah sobbed.

Dave worked, getting Noah’s bottom half stripped down. He’d certainly been thorough, and Dave tried to work as quickly as possible to clean up. All the while, he kept talking to Noah about what a good boy he was, and how proud Daddy was that he’d made a messy diaper, just like he’d been asked.

“My good boy who does what he’s told! I’m so happy with you, bug. Daddy is really really proud that you listened. We’re going to get this all cleaned up, and then I think that you have earned a treat. Maybe we’ll break out some new toys, does that sound good? I stashed some stuff that I’m pretty sure my good boy is going to like.”

Task accomplished, Dave pulled Noah up to sitting, carrying the boy over to the chair and began rocking. The remote control to the iPod speakers was next to him, and Dave turned it on, settling on soft lullabies.

“You did exactly what Daddy asked you to, Noah, and I am so proud of you!” Dave told him, rocking the boy and waiting him out.

Noah wanted to hide forever, but eventually, the tears stopped. Dave let him keep the blanket over his face, just rocking him and waiting, until Noah slowly shifted it down, peeking at him with one swollen eye.

“Are you thirsty? Daddy’s got some nice juice for you,” Dave offered, smiling gently.

Noah pulled the blanket back up, hiding himself again, and Dave went back to rocking. He wanted to pretend like he didn’t know where Noah was, but he figured that they’d made enough progress today. No need to force Noah to play peek a boo. They’d just wait together quietly.

It took Noah almost as long to stop crying and be ready to face Daddy again as it had for him to nap. After several more false starts, Noah shifted the blanket off of his face and simply looked.

“Feel better, my cuddle bug?” Daddy murmured.

Noah tried to glare at Daddy, but he was feeling wrung out. Dave kindly held the bottle up. “Grape juice?”

The baby took it, holding the bottle and sucking it down. The bottle didn’t seem so bad in light of what had just happened, and Noah found himself starting to relax against Dave. Daddy let him wait for a while, until he heard Noah’s stomach growl.

“I think it’s time for lunch,” he announced, helping Noah stand up. He again picked the boy up, carrying him down to eat sandwiches. Dave was feeling pretty confident that things were going to be alright.

Noah was quiet and compliant the rest of the day, a pattern that Dave would notice whenever they made a big move forward. Post losing a battle, Noah was subdued.

Daddy tried to keep him as happy as he could, bringing out some hidden toys that Noah hadn’t seen yet (squishy, rubber dinosaurs), and letting Noah help pick lunch and dinner. They got through the day with no spankings, and Noah seemed grateful to be allowed to escape to bed after dinner.

That night, there was a thunderstorm. Dave loved his house, and Noah’s nursery got plenty of sunlight, but the downside was that things got very loud when there was a storm. Rather than sleeping through it, Noah woke up.

He sat up in his crib, staring wide eyed at the view through the high window. He didn’t want to be in the crib! He wanted out. Eyes darting around, he tried to come up with an escape route.

Standing up, Noah considered climbing over the rail. He could prob’ly do it. ‘cept Daddy had said, “No climbing Noah Aaron!”, and Noah knew that he’d get in trouble for it. And probably get a smacked butt.

Rejecting that plan, Noah bit his lip and let out a little whimper. He hated thunder and lightning! Sure, the odds of being struck in a year weren’t that scary, but in a lifetime? Plus, lightning killed more people than everything except floods, and the way that the rain was coming down, that didn’t seem like an unreasonable fear either.

An especially loud clap of thunder had Noah dropping to his knees and pulling the blankets over his head. Hugging Oscar, he tried to force himself to calm down. It was a storm. It was scary, but he wasn’t going to act like a baby. He wasn’t.

Peeking out a little bit, Noah was met with a bright streak of lightning, immediately followed by an even louder clap of thunder, and he couldn’t help but shriek. A moment later, the nursery flooded with light, and Noah heard a familiar voice.

“Oh, baby. That’s a big loud storm, isn’t it?” Daddy asked, crossing the floor and lowering the crib rail. Noah didn’t even let Daddy sit before he launched himself, burying his face against Daddy’s chest.

“Lightning kills 24,000 people every year. It’s dangerouser than people think,” Noah whimpered.

“That’s a big number,” Dave whispered back, pulling the boy fully into his lap and rocking a bit. “But you’re safe in here.”

“Sometimes people get struck indoors.”

“You’re safe,” Daddy repeated. “I think I’d like some hot cocoa. Does that sound good to you?”

“I come too?” Noah whispered. As stupid as it was, he felt a lot safer in Dave’s lap.

“Of course you come too,” Daddy murmured back. “We’ll go and make some cocoa, and I think we might even have some banana bread downstairs too. Does that sound good? We’ll just have a little snack before we try sleeping again.”

Noah nodded, letting Dave stand up and move him to his hip before grabbing his blanket and Oscar. 

“Can’t leave Oscar up here all by himself, huh?”

The stuffed monster was gratefully grabbed, and Noah cuddled down against Dave, eyes wide, as he was toted downstairs and settled into the chair.

Squatting in front of him, Daddy smiled and stroked Noah’s cheek. “I’m going to make us a snack; you and Oscar sit here and wait for me, okay?” When he got a nod, Dave hurried to make the drink and grab a few slices of banana bread, before returning to pick the boy up.

Somehow juggling the plate, mug, and Noah, Daddy carried him back upstairs, and they resettled in the comfortable chair in Noah’s room. Daddy used his foot to shove the chair right before they sat down, so the men could look out the high window.

Noah’s response, when he was settled and realized what Dave had done, was to bury his face against Daddy’s shoulder.

“It’s like fireworks,” Dave said quietly. “Great, big fireworks. Just lights and noise.”

“Fireworks that kill people,” Noah muttered, pressing harder against Dave. Daddy was not taking this at all seriously enough.

“Not in my house they don’t,” Dave responded, calmly rocking. “Sit up and drink your hot cocoa. I put whipped cream on it.”

Slowly, Noah allowed himself to be coaxed up enough to drink and eat. At first, he tightened his grip on Dave with every sound, while Daddy tried to help him relax.

“I’ve always liked thunderstorms,” Daddy said quietly. “They’re loud, but it’s kind of pretty. I used to go out walking in them when I was in college.”

“Dang’rous.”

Dave smiled at that, “Maybe a little, but it was fun.”

Noah slowly peeked at the window, sipping the cocoa when Dave held it to his mouth and taking obedient bites of banana bread as it was offered.

When the food was all gone, Noah looked mournfully at the crumbs, then said, “We have more now, please?”

“It’s time for bed,” Dave said, wholly charmed by Noah when he was little and relaxed, and not trying to be Puck.

Noah shook his head, eyes widening at that, “‘m not tired ‘tall yet, Daddy. We should stay up more.”

Stalling. Dave was familiar from attempts to get Kurt to nap, and he shook his head, “It’s time for little boys to be asleep,” he murmured.

Noah’s chin trembled at that. “I don’t want the crib all by my own self.”

That was a problem. Dave didn’t have a problem with Noah climbing in with him. He’d lock the bedroom door, and he was a light sleeper. He knew the baby couldn’t sneak away. The issue was sex.

As attractive as Noah Puckerman was, and even in his current state, he was damn attractive, Dave had sworn to himself that he was doing this out of caring. He was not going to do anything that sexualized the relationship for Noah. Dave had known the boy long enough to know that Noah had a very flimsy grasp on the concept of anyone loving him period, and he was constantly trying to figure out what people were trying to get. Unfortunately for Noah, it was most often sex, and it had been since the boys were in middle school.

“I sleep with you?” Noah asked, averting his eyes shyly. 

“You think I can protect you from the lightning?” Dave asked, smiling at the boy. He didn’t want to upset him, and Noah had suggested it.

“I sleep in Daddy’s big bed. Please?” Noah begged, finally looking up. Somewhere beyond the part of him that was having trouble with grammar and wanting cuddles, he recognized that what he was asking was not entirely appropriate. He didn’t care though. Daddy was an ex’llent cuddler, and Noah didn’t like the storm. He could go back to trying to convince Dave he didn’t need this tomorrow. For tonight, he wanted sleepy snuggling with someone who was starting to seem impossible to shock.

“Just for tonight,” Dave said, putting Noah on his feet and then standing himself. He lifted Noah onto a hip, then swaddled him with his blanket and grabbed Oscar. “Hear me, Noah?”

“Just tonight,” Noah agreed, resting his head on Dave’s shoulder and sticking his thumb in his mouth. He wouldn’t need it after tonight.

When Noah woke the next morning, he was curled under soft and warm linens that smelled clean, body pressed up against Daddy. Dave’s arm had curved itself protectively over Noah in the night, and the first thought that Noah had upon waking was how good he felt. He felt like home.

Then he remembered what happened the night before, and he began to feel sick. Tensing up, he rolled quickly away from Dave and stood up.

The movement woke Dave, who looked up at the boy. “Awake already, sweetheart?” Daddy asked, checking the clock. No sunlight yet, and the alarm said it was only 7:00.

“I don’t want to do this anymore!” Noah spat, arms crossed over his chest. The whole effect was rather spoiled by the fleecy pajamas with monsters on them. “You let me go right now; I’m going to-”

Dave sat up, looking at Noah with frank interest, “Where are you going?”

“Away.” Noah tried to keep the nervousness out of his voice. 

“No, baby,” Daddy said gently, standing up and reaching out for him. “You’re going to stay right here, and we’re going to have some breakfast. I feel like pancakes with apples, how does that sound?”

Noah stepped away, “I’m not kidding Dave!” Noah said. Who cared if he didn’t have anywhere to go? That had never stopped him before. And it wasn’t like the situation would change in a month or six months or whenever the hell Dave got sick of playing this little game.

Dave stepped forward to grab Noah’s arm, pulling him in close. “You don’t sound like you’re kidding, but it doesn’t sound like a very good plan. Not to mention that I have absolutely no intention of letting you out to wander around with nobody to take care of you. You are much too little to be all alone.”

“‘m not little!” Noah shrieked, stomping his foot.

Dave shook his head, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling Noah between his knees. “Noah Aaron, you’re not going anywhere, and that’s final. Now, are you done with this little tantrum, or do you need a spanking first thing in the morning?”

Noah couldn’t help but cover his backside at that, eyes widening. 

Watching him, Dave asked after a moment, “Noah Aaron, when I ask a question, I expect an answer. Are we all done with this tantrum?”

Subdued, Noah nodded a little, although he was clearly not happy about it. Dave smiled at him, pulling the man down slightly so he could give him a kiss.

“Good morning, bug. Did you have a good rest?”

Noah crossed his arms over his chest, although he didn’t actively pull away, “Fine,” he gritted out.

“Good boy; thank you for answering Daddy,” Dave said, standing up and picking Noah up without another word. He brought the boy downstairs and settled him in the high chair. 

While Dave made breakfast, Noah glared at his back. He wasn’t going to do this. Dave couldn’t make him do this!

Nonetheless, when Dave asked a question, Noah answered. Perhaps not in the nicest tone, and he certainly wasn’t making conversation, but he would bite out answers to questions. And when Daddy sat at the counter, two plates full of pancakes, Noah opened his mouth and chewed and swallowed, just as directed.

When breakfast was over, they went through the routine with a warm washcloth and Dave firmly massaging over Noah’s bladder, until he finally peed. It was every bit as humiliating as it had been the first day, and Noah focused very hard on a spot behind Dave while Daddy was dealing with the diaper. It was hard to ignore Dave when he wouldn’t shut up, but Noah just about managed it.

It was a rough day. No two ways about it. Noah kept just far enough away from actually breaking the rules so Daddy wouldn’t spank him, but he was surly all day long. Nothing made him happy. If Dave got him apple juice, he wanted grape. He wanted blocks until Dave pulled those out and then only dinosaurs would do. He wasn’t having quiet time cuddles with Dave, thank you very much, he preferred to curl up by himself while Peter Pan played. He didn’t want that for lunch; tuna fish was the grossest thing on earth. And he wasn’t going to have soup.

By the time lunch was over, Dave desperately wanted to put Noah in his playpen and have him entertain himself for twenty minutes so that Daddy could call Blaine. He couldn’t though. He’d discussed this with Blaine back before Noah ever came to him.

Noah was going to push. He was going to kick and scream and insist that he didn’t need someone else to take care of him, and that he didn’t want Dave to love him. That just meant that Dave had to love him more and make sure that he was handling everything. Because the reality was that Noah didn’t trust anyone, and it was going to take a long time of Dave not throwing up his hands and quitting before Noah was really going to believe that he was committed. 

Kurt was supposed to be playing while Daddy and Uncle Dave were talking. He was coloring, and neither man really realized he was paying attention, until he looked up and interrupted.

“Years. Not a long time. Years and years.”

Blaine wanted to reprimand Kurt for interrupting their conversation, but Dave beat him to it, “Why do you think it’s going to take so long, pumpkin?”

“No callin’ me pumpkin in front of the baby,” Kurt had said severely, watching Uncle Dave closely. The larger man held out his hands, and Kurt obligingly climbed into his lap. 

“Nobody ever stays with Noah,” he explained, thinking carefully. “His dad left, and his mom kicked him out, and Santana’s a lesbian, and Quinn didn’t want him...Lauren went off to LA and didn’t invite him. Finn’s just a moron, and he forgets about Noah unless he wants to make himself feel better because he can say that Noah’s a screw up. He’s always alone. Even when he thinks he finds someone, they never love Noah just Noah. Everybody wants something from him, and once they get it, they leave. Even Ms. Corcoran...Noah gave her his kid, and then they had that thing, and she just disappeared. She doesn’t even let him see Beth anymore.”

Daddy and Uncle Dave stared at Kurt then, flummoxed by what he’d just said. After a moment of silence, Kurt rolled his eyes.

“You know, just ‘cause I didn’t have friends other than ‘cedes didn’t mean I didn’t pay attention to what was happening. Prob’ly more attention than you both did.”

Wiggling off of Dave’s lap, Kurt moved to resume coloring, although Dave caught him up for a hug.

“You know I love you?” he asked. 

With Kurt’s face pressed to his shoulder, Dave didn’t see the eyeroll this time so much as heard it. “Yeah yeah. You should. ‘m pretty great.”

Dave let him go with a swat, and Kurt knelt back at the coffee table and began outlining a new dress. He looked up with another thought.

“Just don’t forget your Kurt when you’re busy with the baby. Because he’s going to be cute and fun, but I don’t think he even understands what I just ‘splained to you.”

Daddy snorted at that, “Kurt, nobody could forget you.”

Kurt nodded at that, willfully ignoring any hint that Daddy’s statement was anything less than wholly complimentary. He was pretty amazing. 

Thinking back to this conversation, Dave calmly made a bottle and then settled them both in the rocker. When Noah tried to spit the nipple out, Daddy calmly stuck the bottle back in.

“I know that this is hard,” Daddy said, rocking. “And I know it’s scary. It’s scary to trust me. But you can be as naughty as you want, and I’m still going to love you.”

“Don’t love you,” Noah bratted back, coughing a little on the bottle.

Daddy nodded at that, “That’s fine. You don’t have to. You can hate my guts, and I’m still going to love you and want you and cuddle you.”

“Well, I don’t want your stupid cuddles,” Noah argued, finally shoving the bottle out of his mouth. He tried to get up, but Daddy wouldn’t let him go, and Noah finally shrieked and smacked Dave’s shoulder. “LEMME GO!”

“Noah, you don’t hit Daddy. You can be angry, but you don’t hit,” Dave said calmly. “If you hit again, then Daddy’s going to spank your bottom.”

Noah glared at Daddy, smacking against both of Dave’s shoulders, hard. “I HATE YOU!”

“That’s fine,” Daddy responded, putting Noah on his feet. He walked the boy over to a nearby kitchen chair and then began unsnapping his overalls. “You can hate me, and you can wish that this wasn’t happening. You cannot, hit Daddy. That is unacceptable, and now you’re getting your little butt spanked. Do you understand?” Pulling Noah’s diaper off, Daddy stopped, putting both hands on Noah’s elbows to hold the boy steady. “We don’t hit in this family; we use our words.”

“You’re gonna hit me!” Noah whined, trying to pull away. He hadn’t been thinking when he hit Daddy, and he was not looking forward to what was about to happen.

Daddy shook his head, “I’m going to spank your bottom because you were naughty. It’s not hitting.”

“Is too!”

“No it’s not, bug. Daddy doesn’t ever want to have to spank you, but there are rules. I gave you a warning, and you decided to disobey me.” Pulling Noah over his lap, Dave proceeded to impress that point upon Noah.

By the time Daddy was done, Noah was crying brokenly. Daddy spanked hard, and that had hurt. He wouldn’t even stop when Noah started apologizing. Daddy kept spanking until Noah felt like his butt was on fire, and then, finally, when Noah started to think it would never stop, it was over.

Noah didn’t wait for Dave to help him up. Scrambling up, he crawled onto Daddy’s lap and hugged him tightly. 

Sobbing, Noah pressed his face into Daddy’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around Daddy’s neck.

It hadn’t been Dave’s intention to spank Noah in order to make him feel vulnerable or like he needed Dave, but he wasn’t going to deny the boy comfort. So, holding Noah, he murmured reassurances and waited for the tears to stop.

When Noah finally stopped crying, Daddy made him stand back up, then he picked him up and laid him across the dining room table to put his diaper back on. Noah cried at the pressure on his bottom, but he docilely allowed Dave to get him dressed again.

“Now,” Dave said, picking the boy up and settling him on one hip. “I think that the schedule says that it’s time for nap.”

Noah clutched at Daddy’s shirt, allowing himself to rest his head on Dave’s shoulder. “Daddy? Can I nap in your bed with you?”

Dave wanted to just put Noah down for a nap, without arguing more, but he felt like it had to be said. “Are you going to be a crab again when we wake up? Because I don’t want to have to spank you, bug.”

Noah’s eyes flooded with tears, and he muttered, “I not tryin’ to be bad.”

“You’re not bad, and you couldn’t be if you tried,” Dave explained, “But I don’t want to have another punishment tonight because we napped together.”

Noah hugged Daddy more tightly, “Please big bed naps?”

Dave wasn’t certain about it, but he finally carried the boy upstairs to the master bedroom. Putting him down, Dave traded his own jeans for a pair of sweat pants, then crawled in beside the baby.

“Come here, bug,” he murmured, pulling the unresisting boy into his arms.

Noah snuggled against Daddy, his thumb drifting into his mouth. He fell asleep easily, and slept a deep, dreamless sleep, until Daddy finally shook him awake.

“Hey sleepy boy,” Daddy told him, smiling. “Time to get up. Will you come and play play dough with me? Or should we bake cookies?”

Noah was feeling shy, and he covered up his face. Then, he let out a little moan of embarrassment. He’d wet his stupid diaper! On accident!

“What’s wrong, bug?” Dave asked, sitting up and pulling the boy onto his lap. “Wet diaper? We can fix that, my Noah. Let’s go down to the nursery.”

Noah hid his face in Daddy’s shoulder, allowing the other man to carry him down to the nursery and put him on the changing table. Then, with nothing to hid his face, Noah clenched his eyes shut.

“We’ll just get this diaper off,” Daddy narrated, “then we put a nice, dry diaper on you.” Smearing cream on Noah’s butt, Daddy continued, “Daddy’s good baby. I didn’t even have to remind you, and you just did exactly what you were supposed to. Daddy is so proud of you.”

Noah remained silent throughout the diaper change, but when he was clean and dry, and Daddy had hoisted him back up on his hip, Noah mumbled, “What kind of cookies?”

“I don’t know,” Dave smiled. “Do you like chocolate chip?”

Noah nodded shyly, and Daddy toted him down the stairs and then put him on the counter next to the sink. 

“The first thing we do is wash our hands,” Daddy told Noah, turning on the water and squirting some soap into Noah’s open palms. They washed their hands together at the sink, then Daddy helped Noah hop down to the ground. “Can you get me the bag of chocolate chips from the pantry?” 

Noah went to the pantry, quickly locating the chocolate chips. Dave led him through getting all of the ingredients, then picked the boy up and settled him back on the counter. 

“Okay, my Noah. What’s the first step?” he asked, handing the boy the bag. In a halting voice, Noah read the recipe, stopping after each step to add the required ingredients. Dave silently added more reading together to the list of things in his head that Noah needed.

When the cookies were put in the oven, Daddy made Noah wash his hands again.

“My hands is gonna fall off,” the boy grumped.

“Probably not,” Dave replied, lifting the boy easily and walking out into the living room. “I think we should read some stories while we wait for them. Does that sound good?”

Noah didn’t think it sounded particularly good, but he allowed Dave to put him on the couch. Clutching Oscar, he leaned against Daddy as they read through picture books until the timer went off. It actually wasn’t so bad; Noah liked Pete the Cat. 

When the cookies came out of the oven, Daddy wouldn’t let him have any. He said they had to cool down. Noah didn’t like that so much, but Dave kept him busy, reading more stories, until the cookies were cool enough to eat. Then, they sat together on the couch, cuddling as they ate cookies and read more stories. Dave picked an easy meal that he figured Noah would eat, and then it was time for his bath.

If Noah was being completely honest, bath time wasn’t so awful. Daddy had gotten Noah some pretty cool toys, and Noah liked those. It was weird, especially when Daddy was washing Noah, but the water was warm, and Noah could play. After bath, Daddy got a little too rough with the towel, but it was nice to get wrapped up in warm pajamas.

Sitting in the rocking chair in the nursery, Daddy gave Noah a final bottle as they talked about their day. Dave tried to focus on all of the good things that had happened, but Noah wasn’t having it.

“And then I was bad, and I hit you,” he mumbled around the bottle, blushing. “Sorry.”

“And then you made a bad choice,” Daddy corrected. “The behavior is bad; you are not bad. But thank you for apologizing. What happened after our nap?”

Noah didn’t answer, snuggling against Daddy. He felt sleepy. Dave continued, “You helped me bake cookies, and then we read. Did I forget anything?”

“Stories,” Noah mumbled. His eyes felt heavy, and he lifted his hand to his mouth, sliding his thumb between his lips. “Pete the Cat.”

“Yeah, we read Pete the Cat, and Pigs a Plenty, and...what else did we read?”

“Sleepy.”

Dave smiled, standing up and carrying Noah over to the crib. “Okay bug. Time to go night night.” He tucked the boy in, kneeling beside the crib and smoothing hair away from his forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, okay?”

Noah nodded sleepily, rolling onto his side and hugging Oscar, “Night.”

“Sweet dreams. I love you,” Dave told him, kissing him on the forehead. Bringing the side of the crib up, he hooked it into place, then made for the door, turning off the lights and hitting the soft nightlight so it would turn on. 

Just as he was pulling the door shut behind himself, Noah, half-asleep, mumbled, “Love you too, Daddy.”


End file.
